


I Came Here With My Boyfriend

by whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Break Up, Fluff, Friends to Lovers i guess, M/M, not our boys uh-huh nono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit/pseuds/whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parties are boring.<br/>Also, for some they offer heart break, for others a break through in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gentlemen and Sofas

**Author's Note:**

> FML i can't sleep so here I am at 3 flipping AM writing in my phone that HATES ME please excuse any error, e.g. if it reads cunt I certainly meant can't.

At a party related to work, Dean walks out onto the balcony, wine glass in his hand, boredom on his mind. Being friends with Charlie is something entirely different than seeing ALL the same faces during the week _and_ on Friday night. Charlie went off with her girl, deserting him and he is seriously considering ending their friendship (he isn't, but pouting helps).

Walking about, he notices a seating arrangement and walks over, intending to enjoy the view. Only the sofa is occupied by someone... sniffling quietly? 

The man turns away, left hand wiping at his face while his right hand starts supporting his weight, mumbling "Sorry, I'll get out of the way" but Dean stops him, "Don't worry man, I only wanted to check out the scenery and get away from there, but obviously, you're more in need of it than I am", quickly followed by a soft question, "so, anything I can do to help?", noticing that the guy's only wearing a dress shirt and though it's autumn, it's rather windy and fresh.

The other male gives a dry laugh, "Thanks but I don't think there's much you can do. When the party started, I was in a happy relationship. Now I'm single." Perfect. Dean feels bad for the guy, but talking _feelings?_ Yeah, no. Not his forte. Still, it bothers him, the guy seems to be shaken up quite a bit, not noticing the rather biting wind gusts that.. are connected with the 23rd floor. Yeah, _no_ , not his forte but he won't go away. "Wanna talk?" he asks, contemplating to walk over and sit next to the guy, Dean decides that it's better to let him have some sense or privacy and dignity. Mr. Mysterious jerks up, but keeps his face turned away.

"I appreciate your offer, there's nothing to say or do about it." the reply follows immediately, "but thank you anyway."

"Alright", Dean nods first, then actually answers since the guy can't see him, but instead of going away he simply holds his suit jacket over the sofa's ridge, slightly bumping it into the guy's shoulder to get his attention, "do you mind taking this? I haven't noticed anyone walking out before so if you have no idea how long you've been out here, you might catch a cold.”

This, however unexpected, makes the other guy - Mr. Bedhead, Dean muses after stealing a peak - snort.

“Look, I'll let you be if you want but I can shut up and glare at anyone who comes near us so you can get your bearings together, hm? Sound OK to you?” And after a couple of beats, an elegant hand slowly takes the jacket, spreads the jacket over the bedhead and part of the upper body and somewhere from the depth of the earth a grumbling "Yes, thank you." closes the deal.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, sometimes the white noise of the city below them is softly broken by a laughter here and there from behind the glass doors that separate the happy people on the inside, bathed in light, and two men in the dark of the night, with stars as their only other companions. "I'm Dean, by the way. Feel free to speak whenever you feel like it." - "Hello, Dean. My name is Cas." - "Hey Cas."

 

"Dean. Dean, wake up."

Suddenly, Dean feels cool fingers on his cheek, waking him up from a power-nap he hadn't felt coming. It's frigging cold and he can't see too much in the darkness; the party has apparently slowed, most people either had left or relocated so most of the lights have been turned off, but Dean understands four truths within a few breaths after feeling reborn:

1\. Stars are beautiful and make all things even more ethereal than they already are, for example the contours of a face in the light only night can make so magical it's impossible to ignore.

2\. He definitively isn't strictly into women. He's into dishevelled bed-head. 2a. which likely is the reason he's not pissed to be woken with flipping cold hands on his face.

3\. He has never liked his name said like this before.

4\. Everything happens for a reason. Because if he hadn't come to this party and Charlie hadn't abandoned him, he'd likely never went out to the balcony and met Cas, who is the basis for truths 1-3.

 

Scratch that, five truths:

5\. the guy he met is heartbroken, so Dean has about a snowballs chance in hell.


	2. This Is The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas wakes Dean up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what happens when I'm awake for 20 hours. Again, written on my phone so please excuse the odd and weird errors.

“Dean. Dean, wake up.” soft kisses run across his skin, soft lips trailing along his jugular vein

A grumbled “fuggoffiwannashleeplevemealunn” makes the other man softly chuckle into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“Dean, wake up--” a gravelly voice squeaks slightly as the speaker is subjugated to a lot of _Dean_ being slung over him; arms, legs, torso and all, because it is way too early to get up when it's so damn comfy and there's smell of home and right and screw all those who want to make Dean get up.

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty“, the _Sleep Disturber_ continues, his voice ever slightly shaking with a laugh, “it's your big day today a--”

“I could beat the pancakes of last week outta you you know let me sleep”, Dean groans.

Fuck Cas. _He's_ usually the grumpy cat before 10 a.m. and a peak at the clock across the room made sure it's just after nine so there's absolutely _no_ frigging reason for Cas to be chipper, they're still in bed, lack of caffeine and all half-clothed and unsexy times, so, Dean concludes: “shut upnlemmesleep”

A few minutes pass. He can feel Cas' piercing, pointed, ever righteous look on his left cheek, he knows this won't ever work out the way he wants but before he can even consider to turn all cuddly!octopus!dean, he's lifted with rather inhumane strength up from his very warm, _very_ inviting, very excellent pillow and pushed out of bed.

Just like that.

 

Although Cas should keep a straight face, a disgruntled Dean with bed head, half closed right eye (he's squished his face so much into the pillow, he has lines across his mouth), the look in his left eye close to yelling bloody murder but still trying to _not_ look at Cas' naked torso but instead look very much like a pissed off Chihuahua...

Cas can't help but smile.

This is the man who met him a few years ago on a party, heartbroken and seemingly without any purpose of existence.

This is the man who lent him his jacket, perhaps he had noticed that Cas had had blue lips, perhaps not, but he hadn't pressed, he hadn't asked any questions.

He had, in fact, fallen asleep during his watch over Cas. After wiping his drool off, he asked Cas to get the 'hell out of this boring excuse of a party', he had taken Cas' hand while walking though the entire assembly of working colleagues who either knew him as being solo, and as straight as a ruler, or had known Cas had been dumped rather unceremoniously by the man he had been replaced with. Perhaps both. Dean hadn't cared.

They'd taken a cab, gotten somewhere downtown, nursed a beer, listened to (horrible) karaoke, and Dean still hadn't asked what went wrong. He was just there. When he went to the loo, Cas' ex called and asked Cas what he had in mind with a guy so straight he'd likely break steel if it tried to make him bend over. Cas had blocked the bastard, just before Dean returned. They had exchanged numbers and met frequently.

 

As all good once-in-a-millenium-romances require, the misunderstanding had been great. Cas knew Dean was straight. Dean knew Cas was heartbroken.

Both were so very very wrong but it took about eight months

a) for them to form a profound bond that runs deeper than most ever encounter and, most importantly,

b) for Charlie, Kevin and Sam to gang up on them and use their knowledge of the mens' pining, some good timed shoves, locked doors, soft words and a fuckin megaton of positive manipulation to convince Dean to give it a try while at the same time (slightly) giving Cas the shock of his life by telling him that Dean's likely met The One.

This is the man who for Cas is The One, the man who made things right and who, even when they had their first fight ever (kitten fights are more brutal but it cut them both deep enough to make _Sam_ gag on sap), even then Dean would massage Cas' shoulders every night, even if they weren't on speaking terms. For two evenings they only grumbled “good night” and woke up entangled one into the other like the Gordian Knot. For two nights Dean had spooned Cas even if he would not give him a peck on the cheek. Still, he made them coffee in the morning and on the second morning, well, the coffee had gotten cold after being spilled on the table and the kitchen counter had proved to be rather sturdy. Bless IKEA.

This is the man who Cas knows has taken a part of his lungs because he cannot breathe without him, this is the man he'll take a bullet for.

This is the man, looking like an adorable angry squirrel, squinting, grumbling something very similar to “won't ever share my pie with you again you traitor”.

This is the man that had, at the next party, proudly told his co-workers “I came here with my boyfriend.”

This is the man whose face almost splits in to two with a smile that is food for the soul and sunshine in winter when his twenty seconds of assholery-after-waking-up are over, who slips his hand around Cas' neck to pull him down next to him, kissing him stupid before his brain can even notice that he should still be pissed because it's Sunday and it's nine and Cas is not naked.

 

This is Dean, and he is Cas, and they have had the luck to meet and had the balls (and friends) to make this one true pairing happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts and constructive feedback are highly appreciated. kudos too, but I'm happy for the views as well.

**Author's Note:**

> xD i don't even know how this shit came to be but big thank you if you read through this fuck me I need to sleep
> 
> you can find me on tumblr as [Theogenes Daughter](http://theogenes-daughter.tumblr.com) althouth I hardly post anything.


End file.
